


Explosive Surprises!

by Beccax95



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Childbirth, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Explosions, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy, Forced Isolation/Quarantine, Fred Weasley Lives, Fred and Hermione main pairing, Fremione - Freeform, Fremione Summer Fest 2020, Humor, Light Angst, Mentions of Sexual Intercourse, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Graphic Male Castration (Spell), POV Multiple, Possible Pandemic, Potions Accident, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Prompt: Fred and Hermione forced to quarantine together, Romance, Secret Relationship, non-graphic childbirth, nundu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25713691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beccax95/pseuds/Beccax95
Summary: After a terribly bad week, Hermione finds herself set up with yet another Weasley cousin by Molly Weasley who is determined to make her a Weasley. Upon leaving the disastrous lunch behind Hermione finds herself in a horrible potion’s explosion and is then forced to quarantine at St Mungo’s with her favourite Weasley.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93
Collections: Fremione Fanatics' Summer Fic Fest!





	1. An unexpected Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I usually write under the same penname on Fanfiction.net but have decided to partake in my first Fanfiction Fest here on AO3. This story was written for the ‘Fremione Summer Fest’ hosted by the ‘Fremione Fanatics’ Facebook Group and following the prompt ‘Fred and Hermione forced to quarantine together (because it’s 2020, why not?)”.

* * *

The war was over, had been over for six years now yet Hermione Granger’s life was not going the way she had envisioned. Hermione had plans and dreams but most of them hadn’t yet been fulfilled, probably wouldn’t ever be fulfilled. Back when Hermione was still a student, she had dreamt of defeating Voldemort, marrying Ron and making positive changes to the Wizarding World, she had wanted equality for all living creatures and a house full of little bushy haired redheaded children but so far only the first of her dreams had been accomplished.

They had succeeded in defeating Voldemort on the 2nd May 1998 in the Battle of Hogwarts after she, Harry and Ron had been through a year of hell as they camped out searching for Voldemort’s Horcruxes. They had lost many good people and close friends in the final battle; poor Teddy had lost both his parents and the Weasley’s had almost lost Fred. They had mourned their losses, buried their dead, and rebuilt the school and the rest of the damaged Wizarding World. Hermione had even returned to Hogwarts, she had completed her seventh year and received Outstanding’s on all her NEWT’s.

Her dreams had stopped coming true shortly after she had graduated from Hogwarts. She had had her pick of any career; everyone wanted the smartest witch of the generation to work for them. She had had offers from most of the departments at the Ministry of Magic including the Unspeakables and the Aurors, Hermione had also received an offer from Gringotts to be a Curse Breaker, an offer from St Mungo’s to become a healer and offers to study Mastery’s in Ancient Runes, Transfiguration and Arithmancy. She had ended up turning them all down and choosing a career in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures rather than joining Harry and Ron who had skipped out on their final year of Education to become Aurors or choosing one of the more exciting or higher paying jobs she had been offered.

Hermione respected her friends decision but while they were making a difference rounding up the remaining members of the Death Eaters, she had wanted to help make a difference to the underdogs of society, those whose voices were never heard. So far though she hadn’t been successful, Hermione’s job usually consisted of mundane activities such as one wizard who was selling Crups to Muggle’s or a witch who’s pet Kneazle had bitten her neighbours child, Hermione tried to research and write new laws, or to amend existing ones but each and every time she presented something new the Wizengamot refused to pass it. Hermione had thought that with Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister changes would be made for the better, but the judicial system of the Wizarding World was still largely controled by old pureblood families with outdated views. Every time she had presented a new Law or amendment Hermione had had to watch as the Wizengamot voted knowing that most likely that they would refuse her.

Hermione’s most recent bill to be refused was one she had worked tirelessly on in remembrance of Remus Lupin, Remus had been a hero, he had fought in two wizarding wars, dying in the final battle despite most of society not accepting him as a wizard. Remus had been given an Order of Merlin First Class posthumously. Hermione had made it her mission to help werewolves, Greyback and his pack had bitten many witches and Wizards in the final year of the war, many of those bitten were children or were Hero’s bitten during the Final Battle.

Hermione wanted to remove the stigma Greyback had caused, she wanted werewolves to be treated like any other witch or wizard, she wanted them to be able to access the Wolfsbane potion for free and for it to be illegal to refuse a werewolf an education; employment, entry into an establishment, or the ability to adopt a child. Hermione had stood hopefully as the Wizengamot had voted; many people had voted in favour of her new law including Kingsley, Harry, Neville and Susan Bones but unfortunately more had voted against it, the final ruling had been 26 members voting against and 24 voting for the new law, Hermione somehow had to find a way for two members to amend their decision when she was next allowed to present her werewolf equality Act, she wouldn’t be able to do this for at least 6 months though.

As for her dreams of marrying Ron they had soon frazzled out. She had dated Ron for two years after they had kissed during the final battle. The chemistry the pair had, had vanished, sex had become something the pair had done out of habit rather than for pleasure, eventually the pair had called it quits much to the disappointment of Ron’s mother Molly who had already started planning their wedding even though the pair of them weren’t engaged. It had taken Molly over a year to get over their breakup and ever since she had been determined to make Hermione a Weasley.

To Hermione’s upmost displeasure Molly had taken to setting her up first with each of her available son’s and then with Arthur’s nephews, unfortunately for Hermione, Arthur’s parent’s had had eight sons and each of their son’s had also had many children. Hermione had so far been set up with 29 of Ron’s cousins, Hermione was sure the number would be higher had she not briefly dated Oliver Wood for 10 months, over a year ago. Hermione had a new boyfriend now though, a boyfriend she loved far more than she had ever liked, Victor, Ron, or Oliver but she had yet to tell her friends or family about him, the two of them had been enjoying the secrecy of their relationship for the past six months, they would have to tell people soon though Hermione thought as she rested her left hand on her stomach smiling silently to herself.

After a horrible week that had started with her Werewolf Equality Act been rejected, Hermione found herself sat around a large table in the Weasley’s Orchard. She had a pounding headache, felt nauseous and had been set up with the 30th of Ron’s cousins. Even though Randel Weasley was sat next to her instead of the man she loved, Hermione was happy, happier than she had been all week. She sat at the table surrounded by most of her favourite Weasley’s, Harry, Lavender, Andromeda, and Teddy.

Towards the end of the meal, Ron stood up pulling Lavender with him; “Lavender and I are getting Married,” Ron told them joyfully, his arms wrapped tightly around the waist of Lavender Brown, the blonde at his side smiled ecstatically, making the three faint silver claw marks extending from her left eye to the right side of her chin ripple. The table erupted into cheers and calls of congratulations, Molly burst into tears hurrying around the table to hug the young couple while Bill who was sat next to Ron with baby Dominique in his arms patted his youngest brothers back happily. Hermione couldn’t help but cheer along with the rest of the table for the couple, the two were wonderful together, they hadn’t worked well in school but the war had changed both of them, made them both grow up, together the young couple brought out the best of one another.

“That’s fantastic news,” Arthur called down the table summoning a bottle of Champagne from the kitchen, he began to pour glasses for all the adults that weren’t pregnant as Charlie passed the filled ones around the table.

“Congratulations, Lavender and Ron, I hope your marriage will have just as much love as mine and Molly’s,” Arthur told the couple, raising his glass into the air.

“Congratulations,” everyone chorused, raising their glasses as well, Hermione pretended to take a sip of the champagne before setting the glass down on the table in front of her, watching as Ron leant down and kissed Lavender sweetly, a gentle smile on her face. 

The Weasley cousin Randle who still sat next to Hermione leaned in towards her, “that might be us in a few months,” he whispered leeringly into her ear, Hermione could smell stale cigarettes on his breath and was about to move away from the redhead when she felt one of his hands hidden from view by the long table cloth begin to run up the length of her leg from her knee, Hermione froze, her eyes widening in shock as Randle’s hand continued to trail up her inner thigh underneath the floral summer dress she was wearing.

“Hermione are you alright dear,” Andromeda called from opposite her, drawing the eyes of everyone at the table towards her, Hermione jumped startled, throwing herself backwards from the table with so much force that her chair hit the floor, Randle’s hand falling limply to his side. Hermione saw Andromeda’s eyes widen as they followed the hand falling out of her dress, Hermione didn’t have to look round the table to see that other people had also seen his hand fall, she heard at least one person drop their glass in shock, poor Harry sat next to Andromeda had started choking on the Butterbeer he had just swallowed.

“No I am not alright Andromeda,” she told the older witch angrily as she pulled her wand out of the messy bun she had lazily tied her hair into, her brunette curls falling around her face like a ferocious lion’s mane, her chocolate eyes darkening with fury. Hermione pointed her wand at Randle, his eye’s widening in fear.

“I’ve had an awful week; I don’t feel well, and I just wanted to have a nice Sunday lunch with those I love. What right do you think you have to touch me? What Ron and Lavender have won’t ever be us because I have no intention of ever seeing you again,” She told Randel angrily, her eyes full of hatred. The wizard opposite her didn’t answer her, only looked at her with a stupid wide-eyed expression.

“Aufer ablatisque testiculis,” she whispered venomously while still pointing her wand at him, a dark blue spell shot out of her wand, Randle fell to the ground in agony, holding onto his groin, the males around the table hissed looking at Hermione in horror.

“Mione was that really necessary,” Harry asked her cautiously, 7-year-old Teddy held in front of him as a shield.

“He needed to be taught a lesson, men like him shouldn’t reproduce anyway so I did him a favour by removing his testicles, I’m sure St Mungo’s will be able to reverse the spell or regrow them. Hopefully, he will experience the embarrassment and vulnerability I’ve just experienced as they touch him against his will,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with anger.

“Here, here, another cousin bites the dust, I told you not to set her up with Randel Mum, he’s always been a dick,” George Weasley called from down the table, his arm was wrapped protectively around his wife Angelina, his palm gently stroking her extended midsection that held the couples twins.

“I’m so sorry Hermione dear,” Molly told her, hurrying around the table, towards her.

“It’s fine Molly, but I think I’ll head home now, my head has been hurting all day and I just want to have a hot bath and go to bed,” she told the older witch, the anger leaving her body as quickly as it had arrived.

“Of course, dear, here let me pack ups some food for you, could you drop off some for Fred on your way home too dear, I don’t know why he didn’t come to lunch,” Molly told her using her wand to pack up two parcels of food.

“Sure,” Hermione answered, one more floo journey would only delay her trip home by a few minutes so there was no point in arguing with the older witch, besides, she really would like to see her boyfriend.

“Congratulations, sorry about interrupting your announcement,” she told Ron and Lavender giving them both a big hug.

“Thanks, Mione, don’t worry about it as George said Randle is a dick, Mum must be mental to think he would be a good match for you,” Ron told her as he hugged her back, Hermione smiled into his shoulder before pulling away from her friend.

“Here you go dear,” Molly told her passing her the two parcels of food, Hermione thanked the older witch and after waving goodbye to those gathered at the table Hermione headed into the Burrow to floo to Fred’s Flat above his shop in Diagon Alley.

* * *

Upon arriving in the flat, Hermione found that the living room was completely dark.

“Freddie are you here,” she called down the hallway that led to the two bedrooms and little bathroom of the flat, no response sounded, a quick Homenum Revelio charm revealed that she was the only person currently in the flat, hopefully Fred was in the store downstairs, if he wasn’t she would just have to leave the food in the kitchen with a note for him to find Hermione thought sadly as she opened the door to exit the flat.

“Freddie, Molly’s sent me over with some food, you really shouldn't miss Sunday lunch, it’s the only time the family gets together these days, even Charlie came this week, Ron and Lavender are engaged and your mother set me up with another one of your cousins,” Hermione called as she walked down the stairs from Fred’s apartment into the colourful store below, as with the flat Hermione found the store to be in darkness, except for a small crack of light she could see coming from underneath the doorway to the twin’s workroom.   
  
“I mean really, what is so important that you would skip lunch with your own family, we need to tell people that we are dating, your cousin Randel tried to touch me inappropriately,” she called as she slammed the door to the twin’s workroom open. The sole inhabitant of the room jumped at the sound of the door hitting into the rooms stone wall, dropping the stoppered phial he had been holding into the simmering potion below. His startled eyes locked onto hers, just visible through the bubblehead charm he was wearing.  
  
“He did what to you,” Fred asked startled before looking down at the potion that had begun to boil over, Hermione herd the glass of the phial in the potion shatter.

“Oh Shit, Hermione get down,” her boyfriend called as he slammed his left hand down onto a runic symbol on the corner of his workbench while with his other hand he cast a wandless bubblehead charm on her and quickly fired a wandless shield charm between her and the potion. The rune that he slammed his hand onto was made of raised metal and sharp like a knife. Hermione had only a second to register Fred’s words and see the blood leaking out of his now bleeding palm before the potion exploded blasting Fred backwards, Fred’s shielding charm cracked at the force of the explosion too and Hermione found herself cartwheeling through the doorway she stood in, her already pounding head slamming into the marble floor of the twins store, the bubble around her head popped at the impact and Hermione breathed in a lungful of foul tasting smoke.

Hermione briefly felt her skin blister where some of the scolding potion touched her and vaguely registered that a warm sticky substance was surrounding her head before her vision went fuzzy and she lost consciousness.  
  
The next thing Hermione was aware of was a siren, it sounded like a caterwauling charm. Why was there a caterwauling charm, there had been no need to use the charm since the end of the war six years ago? Why did her head hurt so much and why did it feel wet? What had happened? Hermione thought but before she could open her eyes, the darkness once more took her into its clutches.

* * *

George Weasley was sat with his family happily celebrating the engagement of little Ronnie, his youngest brother had finally plucked up the courage to ask the pretty blonde to be his wife, his own wife had her head resting on his shoulder as he lovingly stroked her baby bump, he still couldn’t believe that he would be a father to twins in just two short months, George thought as he raised his Firewhiskey to his mouth for a drink. Before the amber liquid could reach his lips Georges wand began to vibrate, emitting a shrieking siren, everyone at the table jumped in fright, many pulling their wands out, war reflexes still present after six years without danger, the three children at the table all began to cry.

George jumped to his feet worried, he whispered a charm to end his and Fred’s modified caterwauling charm, it notified the other twin if an accident had happened when in their work room. 

“What is it George,” his dad asked worriedly.

“FRED’S HAND IS AT MORTAL PERIL,” his mother’s hysterical voice called, before he could respond, her body hurrying down from his childhood home towards the orchard.

“What,” many voices from the table called at once, George didn’t pay attention to them as he spun on the spot quickly reappearing outside of his shop in Diagon Alley. George stared at the shop in horror, the windows had been blown out and thick purple smoke streamed out of the building, the upper floor of the building had partially collapsed into the store below, rubble crumbling into the street at George’s feet.

“What’s happened,” a worried voice questioned from his side, on some level he registered that it was Percy’s voice, but George didn’t know how to answer the question.

“It doesn’t matter what’s happened, we need to dispel the smoke and stabilise the building to get to Fred, there’s also a good chance Hermione is still here as well,” Harry’s voice spoke, the young Auror taking charge of the situation. George hadn’t noticed Harry or his brother’s apparateing onto the street, but they were all here now their wands raised to dispel the smoke. Bill stepped up to him and wrapped one arm around him squeezing him tightly,”

“He’ll be okay Georgie, we’ll get to him,” his oldest brother told him quietly, George barely heard him over the modified caterwauling charm still emitting from what was left of his and Fred’s Joke shop, George nodded, Fred had to be alright, they had almost lost him when he was crushed by a wall in the final battle, there was no way they were loosing him today. George raised his wand to help Harry and his siblings save his twin when he suddenly remembered something.

“STOP,” he called urgently, casting a bubble head charm on himself.

“What is it Georgie,” Bill asked worriedly, also casting a bubblehead charm, George could see Harry and his other brothers doing the same.

“Fred didn’t come to lunch today because he was working on a project for St Mungo’s, since the war we’ve been working with them on a few projects but for this one we are helping them to analyse and develop a cure to the breath of a Nundu,” he told them hurriedly.

“Fucking hell, “Charlie cursed horrified.

“That’s classified as a XXXXX Beast, whoever has breathed in the smoke is going to have to be quarantined or we risk outbreaks of everything from the common cold, to diseases like Ebola and Dragon Pox,” Bill said grimly looking at the sky that was filled with the purple smoke emitting from the twins store. The smoke travelled the length of Diagon Alley and likely had already spread into the surrounding magical and muggle streets, many of those who lived on the wizarding street were out watching the commotion at the twins shop unaware of the dangers the purple smoke might hold.

“Shit,” Harry whispered horrified; silently casting his Patronus; “Kingsley I have a code Black in Diagon Alley, there has been an explosion at the Weasley twins store, there is a possibility that Fred may have been experimenting with the breath of a Nundu for St Mungo’s. I need as many witches and wizards as possible to cast a large containment charm around Diagon Alley, the rest of Wizarding London and surrounding Muggle London. I suggest casting it at least fifty feet from the purple smoke that is emitting from the twin’s store. I also need you to get heelers and Aurors here,” Harry whispered to his stag Patronus which bowed at him before taking off up the alley in search for the Minster of Magic.

“Harry what do we do,” Ron whispered quietly, George felt numb.

“We don’t cause a blind panic, everyone who has been exposed needs to remain here in the alley,” Harry replied calmly, that would have been reassuring to George had Harry’s eye’s not been filled with fear.

Molly Weasley was in a state of panic, a panic she had not felt in 6 long years. Deep in the pit of her stomach she felt dread while bile settled at the back of her throat. Fred’s hand on the Family clock had been at Mortal Peril, a place she had hoped none of her family’s hands would ever go again. All her sons including Harry who was as good as her son had gone racing into the same danger, and sweet Hermione had been in the shop because she had asked her to take Fred some food. Molly had wanted to run into the danger herself but Bill and Harry had both insisted that she should stay at the Burrow with the rest of the family, Arthur had led her into the kitchen and made them a pot of tea and Ginny, Lavender and her three daughter in laws had followed suit, while Andromeda had offered to watch the grandchildren in the garden.

“I’m sure they will be fine Molly, the twins are always causing a ruckus, we will surely hear back from them soon,” Percy’s wife Audrey told her as she rested her hand on her lightly descended stomach, Molly couldn’t help but smile at the action despite the worry she currently felt.

Since the war had ended her family had continued to grow and within the year it would be much larger. Already Molly was a grandmother to three; first there was Teddy, who though not technically her grandchild was as good as and then Bill and Fleur had given her two granddaughters, little Victoire born exactly a year after the final battle on the 2nd May 1999 and just two years ago they had brought little Dominique into the world. Now her own daughter Ginny was four months pregnant with her and Harry’s first child a little boy, Fleur was six months pregnant with her and Bill’s third child, this time a boy, Audrey and Percy were expecting twin daughters in six months’ time and George and Angelina would be welcoming twin’s a boy and a girl in two months’ time. Six new grandbabies for her to dote on, her enchanted knitting needles hadn’t stopped making little booties, hats, blankets, and jumpers since the moment Angelina had announced her pregnancy five months ago. Now that Ron and Lavender were getting married, she’d likely have more grandchildren in the next few years. Only Charlie and Fred had yet to find a witch to settle down with Molly thought her lower lip wobbling as her eyes drifted back to the clock on the wall where Fred’s hand still sat at Mortal Peril. 

* * *

When Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt had awoken on a fine Sunday morning in the middle of July, he had planned to have a nice relaxing day. Kingsley’s day had started as intended, he’d had a delicious fry up for breakfast and spent the morning pottering around in his garden, after the war he had taken up gardening and most weekend’s he could be found planting flowers and cutting back shrubs. By mid-afternoon Kingsley had put down his trowel and had found himself sat on a deckchair under the midday sun, a book in hand as a large T-bone stake cooked itself on his grill, next to him he had an open bottle of red wine, his second glass half drunk held in the hand not holding his book.

“Kingsley, I have a code Black in Diagon Alley, there has been an explosion at the Weasley twins store, there is a possibility that Fred may have been experimenting with the breath of a Nundu for St Mungo’s. I need as many witches and wizards as possible to cast a large containment charm around Diagon Alley, the rest of Wizarding London and surrounding Muggle London. I suggest casting it at least fifty feet from the purple smoke that is emitting from the twin’s store. I also need you to get heelers and Aurors here,” Harry’s voice had sounded in Kingsley’s quiet garden, his silver Stag Patronus stood proud before the Minister. Kingsley was understandably startled when he received Auror Potter’s Patronus, so startled his glass of red wine had dropped from his hand, shattering onto his patio.

Kingsley sat frozen for a moment, processing the words that the Patronus had spoken, certain words stood out to him; “Code Black”, “Explosion”, “Nundu”, “Containment Charm”, “Diagon Alley”, “Wizarding London”, “Muggle London”, “Fifty Feet”, “Purple Smoke”, “Healers” and “Aurors”. Kingsley analysed these words quickly, forming a plan as he thought.

Within minutes Kingsley was on his feet his wand out in front of him; he turned off his grill and banished the steak and wine back to his kitchen, then he waved his wand hurriedly sending it off first to the head of St Mungo’s requesting their urgent presence at the ministry then to the heads of many of the ministry departments also requesting their presence at the ministry, finally he sent a reassuring message back to Harry Potter informing him that assistance was coming and a message to Minerva McGonagall to send word to the remaining order members that he needed assistance containing the purple smoke in London.

Less than 10 minutes after he had received Harry’s Patronus, Kingsley found himself stood in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, waiting impatiently by the war memorial that now stood in the centre of the atrium, a towering obelisk with the names of every known witch and wizard that had lost their lives at the hands of Voldemort and his followers in both of the most recent wizarding wars, many of those on the memorial were people Kingsley had known, worked with, was friends with and loved while others were complete strangers. Kingsley sadly ran his hand across one of the names near the bottom of the monument; Mary McDonald, he’d been engaged to Mary during the first war but they had never gotten the chance to marry, to have children and grow old together, he mused sadly as the fireplaces along the sides of the atrium began glowing green, as those he had requested arrived in the deserted Ministry.

“Minister Shacklebolt,” his head Auror, Maxwell Roberts greeted him pleasantly.

“Roberts”, he nodded to the Auror, watching as the other people he had requested stepped out of the fires.

“Why have you called us here, Minister”, his head unspeakable asked impatiently eyeing Kingsley’s casual jeans and t-shirt in distaste.

“There has been a major incident in Diagon Alley, Auror Potter has called a Code Black,” Kingsley began, there were gasps from those in front of him which was understandable as they hadn’t had a Code Black since the height of the last war.

“What is it, Death Eater’s,” his under secretary Susan Bones asked worriedly, her eye’s on the war memorial next to them, Kingsley didn’t have to follow the young redhead’s eyes to know she was staring at a section of the memorial with the names of every member of the Bones family with the exception of her own.

“No but I fear if we don’t control the situation it could be just as deadly, possibly more so,” he told them gravely.

“What is it Kingsley,” Roberts asked.

“Potter say’s that there has been an explosion in Diagon Alley, it originated at the Weasley Twin’s joke shop and there is purple smoke spreading out across London from the site of the explosion,” he told them.

“You called us all here on a Sunday because the Weasley twins have had an accident with their experimenting,” his head unspeakable muttered angrily, Kingsley could see that while Unspeakable Adrian Travers was angry, Head Healer Matilda Abbott had gone pale upon hearing his words.

“I called you all here because Auror Potter believes Fred was experimenting with the breath of a Nundu, as we speak the purple smoke expanding from the site of the explosion might be acting as a biological weapon, we need to get a control on this situation. I want teams of Auror’s and Healers within the Alley and the surrounding streets of magical and muggle London within the next 10 minutes. I need the floo network shut down and Anti-Apparition wards set up on all of Wizarding London with the exception of St Mungo’s, nobody is to leave the epicentre until we have this situation under control, I want one designated Apparition zone near to the twins store, manned at all times by Aurors, I will not have us unleashing an epidemic or a pandemic on our country. I need all available hands on deck for this, I want the Unspeakables to work with Minerva and the Order to cast containment charms on the surrounding area, Minerva is waiting for my signal to start these charms, we will be casting them at a perimeter of fifty feet from the purple smoke. Susan, I need you to contact Prime Minister Tony Blair, he needs to be aware of what is happening so he can keep the muggles calm. The next few hours will be difficult, we haven’t faced a threat this great in over five years, I need us all to work together, you know your tasks get to work, I want the containment charms up within the next 15 minutes so everyone must be in their places, Please make sure to use precautions, I don’t want any more people breathing in the contaminated air, please also make sure that nobody entering the infection zone has any cuts or wounds. We will have to have people decontaminate, and I need someone to determine how dangerous this smoke is, everybody please go and get to work, Matilda I’d like a word before you go,” Kingsley told them feeling much older than his age of 52.

“What about the Statute of Secrecy,” Susan asked worriedly.

“On this occasion we will worry about it later, try to be discreet if you can but I’d rather us have to do mass obliviations later than burry thousands,” he told them seriously, everyone nodded and made to leave apart from Head Healer Abbott.

“Minister,” she asked nervously once they were alone.

“Matilda we are going to have a long discussion later about why, Fred Weasley had such a dangerous substance in the centre of Diagon Alley but before that I need you to get me your top healers who specialise in deadly diseases and infections, as I said before we need to know what we are dealing with in Diagon Alley, as a precaution I need you to have at least one floor of St Mungo’s cleared and isolation charms placed upon it, potentially we may have thousands of people sick, we need to air on the side of caution. I need as many healers as you can spare in the alley please,” he told the blonde healer calmly.

“Of course, Kingsley,” Matilda nodded.

“Good, I will be in Diagon Alley, trying to calm our public,” he told her as he led her over to the floo’s to leave the ministry.

* * *

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall had fought in Grindelwald’s war, then fought two wars against Voldemort and his followers; she had taught the Marauders when they were at school, taught the Weasley Twins and dealt with all the shenanigans Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley had got into, she had put up with all of Albus’ meddling and survived a year with Death Eaters in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts’s. None of these experiences prepared her for informing Molly Weasley that her babies were potentially exposed to deadly diseases.

Minerva had been having an enjoyable morning visiting Muggleborn’s to deliver their Hogwarts letters, she’d always enjoyed this job, watching as their little faces lit up with joy upon learning that magic was real, while their parents stared at her in disbelief. She had patiently answered all their questions, shown them different spells, and explained how everything in the wizarding world worked. Minerva had just settled down at her desk after a scrumptious Sunday lunch to do some paperwork and drink a cup of tea when she had received a Patronus from Kingsley asking her to gather the order to contain infectious smoke emitting from the twins store, she had sent her own Patronus off to those that had survived the war giving them instructions but had decided that the Weasley’s needed to be informed in person. Silently cursing the Minister for Magic and whoever had allowed the Weasley Twins to experiment with the Breath of a Nundu; Minerva flooed over to the Burrow.

“Molly, Arthur are you home,” she called through the house upon finding the living room empty, a crash sounded from the kitchen before the door separating the two rooms was pulled open to reveal a nervous looking Molly.

“Minerva is everything alright,” Molly asked wiping a stray tear that leaked out of the corner of one of her red eyes.

“I’m afraid not Molly, why don’t we sit down, I have an update from Kingsley for you,” Minerva told the younger woman calmly.

“You best come in then,” Molly told her leading her into the kitchen.

“Minerva what’s going on,” Arthur asked tiredly, the balding man was in the process of cleaning his glasses the muggle way.

“There is no easy way to say this, Kingsley needs the Order to put up a containment charm around Diagon Alley,” she told them steadily, Molly paled visibly and if the situation hadn’t been so serious Minerva might have laughed at how wide Ginny Potter’s eyes became.

“Why,” Fleur asked quietly looking up at her expectantly.

“I wish I knew more but Kingsley’s Patronus was brief, apparently purple smoke is emitting from the twin’s store and there is a chance it may be contaminated by the breath of a Nundu, as a precaution Diagon Alley and the surrounding streets are getting contained while St Mungo’s determines if the air is infectious,” she told them gravely. There were gasps from around the table at her announcement.

“Oh, my poor babies, I have to help them,” Molly whispered pushing herself up from the table determinedly.

“You can’t go to the Alley Molly,” she told the greying redhead firmly.

“The hell I can’t, two of my children are missing and another six of them are in Diagon Alley searching for them, I should have gone with them the moment Fred’s hand went to Mortal Peril. Why did I listen to Bill and stay here,” Molly told her frostily, Minerva didn’t have the heart to inform the younger woman that she only had seven children, not nine, Molly had a thing for picking up strays.

“The floo network and apparition to the Alley will have…” Minerva began to say only to be interrupted by a pained gasp and the sound of gushing liquid, all eyes turned to the source of the sounds, Angelina was grasping her stomach, hunched over, her eyes screwed shut in pain.

“Oh dear, you’re in labour,” Molly whispered hurrying around the table to her daughter in law.

“It’s too soon, I can’t do this without George,” Angelina ground out, still clutching her stomach.

“Hopefully you won’t have too, Molly you take Angelina to St Mungo’s, Minerva I will come with you to help contain the purple smoke,” Arthur informed the room decisively, Molly reluctantly nodded as she gently stroked Angelina’s back.

“I’ll come help you dad,” Ginny said standing up determinedly.

“You will do no such thing Ginevra, we don’t know how harmful this situation is, I will not have you putting the life of yourself and my unborn grandson in danger,” Arthur told his daughter resolutely.

“I’m not pregnant, I’ll help,” Lavender Brown said unwaveringly, Minerva couldn’t help feeling proud as she looked at her blonde cub, before the war Lavender Brown had been a boy crazy girl with her head in the clouds but the young woman had faced great trauma during the war; her parents and younger sister had all been murdered by Death Eater’s during her seventh year of schooling, she had then fought bravely during the final battle where the young girl had almost lost her own life to Fernier Greyback, she had spent weeks recovering from the attack, her face scarred and then had to face the stigma’s on a daily basis that came from been a werewolf. Most people would have given up after what she had experienced but Lavender Brown hadn’t, she had sat her NEWTs, and set up an orphanage for child werewolf’s. Unfortunately Greyback and his pack had successfully turned countless children during the last year of the war, many had been left orphans after the murder of their parents or else had been abandoned by parents who didn’t want a werewolf for a child. Lavender took them all in despite most of society been against her.

“Excellent, we best get moving then, Kingsley said he would send a Patronus once they were ready for us to start the containment charm, Angelina, I can’t wait to meet your babies,” Minerva told them, smiling at the former Gryffindor reassuringly before making her way out of the house, Arthur and Lavender following behind her.

She smiled kindly at Andromeda who was watching a turquoise haired Teddy with a face so similar to his father’s and an adorable six-year-old Victoire race round the garden on toy broomsticks, a sleeping two year old Dominique was held in the other woman’s arms. Minerva really couldn’t wait for the next generation of Weasley, Potter and Lupin children to get to Hogwarts, Severus’s portrait had been bragging for the last Five year’s about how Gryffindor’s winning streak was over and his house was once again the best at quidditch in the school. Just you wait Severus she thought to herself, Minerva had every intention of putting together an all-star quidditch team with the children of her former Gryffindor’s.

* * *

Less than half an hour after receiving Auror Potter’s Patronus, Kingsley found himself apparateing into Diagon Alley, bubblehead charm in place as a large lilac dome began to form over all of Wizarding London, and some of surrounding Muggle London, he could see that groups of healers and Aurors had already made it to the scene and that all of the floo’s already had gates on.

“Harry, what’s the situation,” he asked the young Auror striding up to the messy haired 23-year-old who had his wand out levitating chunks of rubble out of the collapsed store with the help of most of Arthur Weasley’s sons.

“We’ve dispelled most of the smoke from the main street and sent everyone who was gawking at the twins shop back into their homes, luckily it is Sunday so most of the shops are closed, if this had happened yesterday, Diagon would have been heaving. We believe Fred and Hermione are both still within the shop, she left lunch early and agreed to drop some food by on her way home, we haven’t been able to make contact with her since, Fred’s hand on Molly’s clock was at mortal peril when we left the Burrow” the younger wizard told him, never once stopping in his task of removing rubble.

“WE NEED MORE WANDS OVER HERE,” Kingsley shouted to a group of Aurors nearby gesturing to the store before him, the group hurried towards him and began helping to levitate pieces of the store away in search of Fred and Hermione.

“Minister what is going on,” a worried voice called, Kingsley turned around to see Mrs Hopkins, the frail old witch who owned Flourish and Blotts.

“Mrs Hopkins, you really shouldn’t be on the street, let me escort you back to your bookshop,” he told the old witch, offering her his arm.

“Why is there such a commotion on the street, what’s happened to the young twins store,” she questioned accepting his offered arm.

“I don’t yet know what is happening, there is an ongoing investigation while we search for Fred Weasley and Miss Granger,” he told her patiently as he led her into her bookshop.

“Oh, the poor dears I do hope they are alright, they make ever such an adorable couple, they remind me of my Albert and I when we were their age. They’re going to have the most precious curly redheaded children. Miss Granger was in here just yesterday you know buying books on pregnancy, asked me to be discreet, they haven’t told anybody yet, I’ve been watching them sneak around for months, you know,” she told him secretively, either old Mrs Hopkins had finally lost it, she was 103 so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility or she had just informed him of a secret relationship, and child he had no prior knowledge of, that nobody had any knowledge of, oh to be a fly on the wall when Molly Weasley found out, Kingsley thought to himself with a chuckle as he exited the bookshop a few minutes later and headed back towards Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes, to help the other witches and wizards get to Fred and Hermione.

* * *

George Weasley was beginning to lose hope, it had been over three hours since they had arrived in Diagon Alley and he felt empty like a part of himself was dying. George had only experienced this feeling twice in his life before today, the first time was when he was a child of five, Fred had got really sick after eating poisonous mushrooms in their garden, it was the first time the twins had ever been separated while Fred recovered in the Hospital. The second time he had experienced this feeling had been when Fred had been crushed by a wall in the Battle of Hogwarts. Both times Fred had almost died, Fred had described feeling a similar feeling after he had lost his ear in the Battle of the Seven Potters. George had hoped that he would never experience the feeling again but here he stood looking at his destroyed store, his twin brother buried somewhere in the wreckage. He wouldn’t be able to cope if Fred weren’t alright George thought sadly as he continued to dig through what remained of his store.

“I’VE FOUND SOMEONE,” one of the Aurors called loudly, George almost dropped his wand, he was so desperate to get to them, he wasn’t the only one who rushed towards the Auror, if the situation wasn’t so serious George might have laughed at the sight of his brothers and Harry flinging themselves across the rubble to get to the Auror.

When he arrived, George found a single mucky white hand with chipped pastel pink nail varnish on its fingers, the hand was connected to a dainty wrist that was sticking out of the rubble. On the wrist there was a familiar silver charm bracelet he had seen many times before and the edge of a dust covered pale blue sleeve was just visible amongst the surrounding wreckage.

“Hermione,” Harry breathed at his side, a part of George felt disappointment that it wasn’t Fred but, he instantly berated himself for these feelings, Hermione was family, his little sister in all but blood, George would never want anything bad to happen to her.

“Is she alive,” Ron asked quietly, his voice full of dread as other Aurors began moving the remaining rubble off the brunette witch carefully. George watched worriedly as Harry lent down, gently feeling that little dainty wrist with two fingers, George didn’t need to hear Harry confirm that the she was alive though because as soon as Harry’s hand touched hers, her fingers twitched, grasping onto Harry’s in a tight hold.

“Hermione, we are going to get you out, don’t worry,” Harry called reassuringly never once letting go of the girl’s hand as more and more of her body was revealed to them.

“WE, NEED HEALERS OVERHEAR,” George found himself yelling as the last of Hermione was revealed to him. Hermione looked tiny laid amongst the rubble, her pretty white floral sundress now soaked with blood, as was her pastel blue cardigan, George could see that most of the blood seemed to be coming from a wound on her head, but Hermione had cuts all over her body as well as what looked to be burns, one of Hermione’s legs was definitely broken, sticking out at an unnatural angle.

“Hermione can you hear me,” Harry asked his best friend desperately, Hermione’s eyes fluttered open, staring up at Harry unfocused.

“Harry, I’m pregnant,” she whispered before her eyes rolled back. George felt physically sick as he stared down at the petite witch watching as healers swarmed in to take care of her.

“Pregnant, she’s not dating anyone is she,” Ron asked dumfounded at his side.

“You don’t need to date someone to make a baby Ron,” Charlie told their baby brother, George would usually make a joke at Ron’s expense but he didn’t because he knew whose baby this was, it was Fred’s, he and Hermione hadn’t been that discreet in their secretive romance. George hadn’t lived in his and Fred’s flat for over a year but he still worked in the store below, many times he had watched Hermione sneak out after he had opened the store in the morning or heard her and his twin at it like wild rabbits when he stayed late restocking shelves or working on his latest product ideas.

“She’s dating Fred,” he told his brothers quietly, using his wand to move more rubble in search for his twin, Ron stared at him stunned.

“Kingsley”, an excited voice called, Kingsley turned to the voice and found Matilda hurrying towards him with an excited smile on her face.

“Matilda why aren’t you wearing a bubblehead charm,” he asked the former Hufflepuff worriedly.

“The smoke isn’t infectious, the only bacteria we can find in our air samples belong to viruses, diseases and infections you’d expect to find in England at this time of year. Healer Malfoy is our best healer when it comes to infectious diseases, he is certain that the only people at risk of catching anything from the Nundu breath were anyone who were inside the building at the time of the explosion. He is currently carrying out tests on Miss Granger while other healers work on healing her injuries and we will do the same for Mr Weasley once he is found. Mr Malfoy doesn’t believe that any bacteria would have survived for long without a human host after the heat of the explosion,” Matilda informed him excitedly.

“That’s fantastic news,” he told the blonde healer feeling so relieved he pulled her into a tight hug, as he did so he inhaled the delicious smell of coconut from her hair.

“Until we know if they are infectious or not, I do recommend that anyone near them uses the same precautions that they have been using so far,” Matilda told him quietly as she pulled out of the hug a gentle blush on her face, Kingsley couldn’t help but smile at the blush thinking that the younger witch looked incredibly pretty with pinkened cheeks.

“Understandable, thank you for the update Matilda, I best get to informing everyone, I dare say we have lots of muggles that will need to be obliviated and there are many witches and wizards who will be wanting to know that their family members are safe,” Kingsley replied, his eyes drifting up to the gigantic lilac dome that still encircled a large part of London.

“I also have news from the hospital, Angelina Weasley is in active labour and would like the annoying, insufferable, big dicked prat that dared to knock her up, at her bedside so she can hex him into oblivion and break every bone in his body,” Matilda told him with a chuckle, Kingsley couldn’t help but let out a bellowing laugh.

“I’ll tell George right away”, he told the blonde, still chuckling as he headed in the direction of the Weasley’s.

“George,” he called a few minutes later, to get the twins attention, George was on his knees digging through the rubble his wand discarded at his side, the redhead showed no sign of hearing him as he continued to dig, Kingsley gently approached him and placed a hand on the younger mans right shoulder, George jumped looking up startled.

“Angelina is in Labour you need to get to St Mungo’s,” he told the younger man smiling gently.

“What? - But she isn’t due, Fred – I can’t leave him, Infectious smoke,” George gasped out his breath quickening.

“Angelina is in labour, babies often come when they aren’t expected, the head of St Mungo’s has just informed me that the air isn’t infectious. You need to get to St Mungo’s; Fred wouldn’t want you to miss the birth of your children. We will find him for you George but right now your wife needs you,” he told the younger man, as he silently cast a cleaning charm on the redhead.

“He’s right Georgie, Freddie would want you with Angie right now, we will find Fred,” Bill told his younger brother pulling him to his feet and into a hug.

“I’m going to be a father,” George whispered quietly.

“Yes, you are, now go help your wife bring my niece and nephew safely into this world. I will send you a Patronus the second we find Fred,” Bill told the younger redhead leading his younger brother towards the Auror manned apparition point, the Aurors guarding the point looked at Kingsley questioningly, he silently nodded, motioning with his hand to let the brothers through. He watched Bill give George one more hug before the younger redhead apparated away. Kingsley let out a tired sigh as he raised his wand to send another Patronus to Minerva.

* * *

Ginny Weasley had been pacing the halls of St Mungo’s for hours, anxiously waiting for news on her family, Fred had been missing for over five hours, Hermione had been found two hours ago but the healer’s hadn’t allowed her to see her friend or given her a decent update on how she was doing. Angelina had kicked her out of her room an hour after her labour had started because she found her pacing too annoying. All Ginny wanted was her family safe and to do something to help them all but as her father had told her, she was responsible for not only her life but baby James’ so instead of doing anything productive she paced, anxiously waiting for news from Diagon Alley, news from the hospital and news from home.

Pace, two, three four, pace, two, three, four, pace, two, three, four, turn, pace, two, three, four, pace, two, three, four, pace, two, three, four, Ginny thought quietly, her silent mantra keeping her going despite her feet now hurting, just as she was about to turn to continue her pace she caught site of a familiar redhead barrelling down the corridor.

“George,” she called to him, standing still where she was, her older brother looked up his face panicked.

“Gin, where’s Ange,” he asked his eyes scanning the corridor as though he expected his pregnant wife to just pop out of any of the white doors that lined it.

“I’ll take you to her, have you found Fred,” she spoke quietly, taking one of his large calloused hands in one of her much smaller ones to lead him down the corridor.

“Not yet,” he told her his usually joyful face set in a deep frown, his eyes worried.

“Freddie will be alright, he has to be,” she told him squeezing his hand reassuringly as she stopped outside one of the white doors, the door had Angelina’s name on it on a shiny silver plaque.

“Yeah he has to be, thanks Gin,” he told her quietly, kissing her on the forehead, before quietly opening the door and slipping inside the room, Ginny heard an agonised scream that made her gulp holding her own stomach worriedly, before the door closed, silencing charm firmly back in place. Ginny couldn’t wait to meet baby James but the thought of giving birth, experiencing that amount of pain and been so vulnerable made her uneasy, at least she had five more months before she had to go through the experience and she would have Harry there throughout the whole ordeal, Ginny nodded to herself firmly as she began her pacing again; Pace, two, three four, pace, two, three, four, pace, two, three, four…

* * *

“George,” Angelina gasped out at the site of her husband, her face contorted with pain as she lent forward holding her stomach with one hand while she squeezed his mothers’ hand with her other.

“Angie,” George breathed watching as she bore down hard, before falling backwards gasping for breath, Angelina’s striking mocha skin glistened with beads of sweat and her hair that had been tastefully coiled that morning was slick, sticking to her clammy forehead, her caramel eyes were full of pain yet her mouth was gritted determinedly as she bore down once more, George took the hand his mother did not have and held tight, “let’s have our babies,” he told her bringing her hand to his mouth so he could kiss her knuckles, Angelina had never looked more beautiful he thought to himself as his gorgeous wife began to curse his existence, her hand squeezing his so hard he was sure a few of his fingers had broken.

“You can do this Angie, your amazing,” he told her quietly, gently moving her hair out of her face with his spare hand, Angelina continued to push, George barely noticed as his mother slipped quietly out of the room.

* * *

Molly Weasley was furious, after George had arrived at the hospital, she had slipped silently out of Angelina’s hospital room to give the young couple privacy before their children were born. Upon leaving the room she had found Ginny pacing in the corridor outside the room like a caged animal, she had forced her daughter to sit down, gotten her a cup of tea and then set about trying to get information on how Hermione was doing.

None of the blasted hospital staff were forthcoming with information, so Molly had found herself face to face with a terrified receptionist, the poor dear looked barely old enough to be out of Hogwarts, if Molly had been in her right frame of mind she wouldn’t have set her wrathful glare on the girl but far too many healers had refused to speak to her. Molly’s rage was renowned, her children’s generation had known this through the howlers she had often sent to her children at Hogwarts, this young girl before her knew it as she had been taught in History of magic of how Molly killed Bellatrix Lestrange with a smile on her face.

“Mrs Weasley,” the young girl gulped her eyes wide.

“I need to know how my daughter is doing,” she told the girl tightly.

“Your daughter isn’t a patient,” the girl tried to tell her, Molly increased her glare.

“Hermione Granger how is she doing,” she asked feeling expressed.

“Mrs Weasley, patient confidentiality, I can only discuss her health with her next of kin,” the girl told her worriedly.

“I’ve practically raised the girl, I am her next of kin, how is she doing,” Molly growled out.

“That’s not what her records say,” the girl whispered her eyes terrified.

“You know who I am, you know that Hermione Granger is close to my family, I demand that you tell me how she is doing right now”, Molly told her, her wand now in hand, red sparks shooting out of the tip of it.

“Abigail, I will handle this, Molly please follow me and I will give you an update,” a calm voice sounded behind her, Molly saw a look of relief flash across the receptionists face before she spun round to see who had spoken to her. Molly was relieved to see head healer Matilda Abbott behind her, Molly nodded and hurried to follow the blonde woman to her office.

Once inside the cosy office, Matilda gestured for Molly to sit in a squishy yellow armchair in front of a cluttered desk while Matilda sat on the edge of the desk in front of her.

“How is she...” Molly began to ask, Matilda held up her hand silencing her.

“Miss Granger is doing better than we were expecting, she had a number of broken bones, burns, cuts, a nasty concussion and she had a ruptured appendix. The burns and cuts have already been healed; her appendix was removed. We’ve reset her bones and given her potions that are pregnancy safe to finish healing them and to heal the concussion she has , it’s best she remains unconscious while the bones heal. It’s a miracle she didn’t lose the babies,” Matilda told her calmly, Molly felt all the breath leave her lungs as she looked at Matilda shocked.

“Pregnant, babies, Hermione’s pregnant,” Molly asked astounded.

“You didn’t know, the healers who brought her to the hospital said she had told them she was pregnant before losing consciousness. We ran tests on her and discovered she is a little over two months pregnant with identical monochorionic quadruplets, they are all perfectly healthy, but we will continue to keep an eye on them,” Matilda told her quietly.

“Can I sit with her, who’s the father?” Molly asked the blonde healer.

“We don’t know who the father is Molly and Miss Granger has to remain in isolation. Our tests have found traces of infectious non-native bacteria’s in Miss Granger’s respiratory system. We are giving her both muggle and magical medicine to combat this, but you never know how dangerous Nundu breath is. We are doing everything we can for her. It is likely that her and Fred once he is found will have to remain in quarantine for at least three months, most infectious diseases don’t have an incubation period longer than this,” Matilda told her, gently squeezing her shoulder in comfort, Molly began to cry.

* * *

They had been searching for Fred for nearly nine hours, Bill was exhausted yet determined. The lilac dome had been dispelled and the sky was darkening rapidly as night-time set in.

Bill carefully used his wand to move the rubble, bit by bit searching for his brother, as he moved what looked to be part of a storage cupboard he heard a sound, “ah,” it was so quiet, it was lower than a whisper but Bill heard it.

“QUIET,” he called to the assembled witches and wizards helping to find his brother, instant silence descended.

“Freddie, can you hear me,” he called desperately hoping he hadn’t imagined the sound.

“Ye-ah,” the faintest voice sounded from the rubble below him, just audible to his ears, Bill heard a gasp from behind him and didn’t have to turn to know it had come from Lavender who had arrived to help with his dad shortly after the containment charm had come down. While most people wouldn’t of heard it, Bill was thankful perhaps for the first time that he had been attacked by Greyback all those years ago, he might not be able to transform into a werewolf but he did have increased senses, increased hearing.

“Were going to get you out Freddie,” he called, he silently cast his Patronus, sending four words to George.

* * *

“That’s it, Mrs Weasley, the baby’s head is out, one final push and your first baby will be here,” the Mediwitch stood between Angelina’s open legs told his wife smiling at her kindly.

“Georgie, I can’t do this, it hurts too much,” she told him shaking her head.

“Yes you can, you are the bravest, most beautiful woman I have ever met and you are doing incredible, you’ve almost done it sweetheart, one more push and we will have our first baby,” he told her holding both of her hands in his, Angelina nodded, and as the next contraction hit, she pushed as hard as she could, squeezing his hands like a vice.

Angelina fell back panting once more, as a baby’s cry sounded.

“One healthy baby boy,” the mediwitch told them using her wand to cut the babies cord.

Silent tears rolled down George’s cheeks as he took in the sight of his son, who already had a head full of reddish-brown curly hair. As the Mediwitch placed him into Angie’s arms a familiar silver falcon sored into the room; “Got him, he’s alive,” Bill's voice spoke from it’s beak, George broke openly sobbing as his body filled with relief, his twin was alive, he had a son and soon he would have a daughter too, he thought happily as Angelina gasped loudly, another contraction traveling through her body. George couldn’t stop the large smile that spread across his face, everything was going to be alright.

* * *

An hour after Fred had been pulled from the wreckage of Weasley’s Wizard’s Wheezes the Weasley family found themselves assembled in the corridor outside of Angelina’s room, Fred had been taken away by the healers and none of them had been allowed to go with him. Those that had been digging through the store had cleaned up the best they could without having showers and slumped tiredly with their partners waiting for news on their family members.

Arthur Weasley sat tiredly, his arms wrapped tightly around Molly, the only sound in the corridor were Ron’s snores, his youngest son really could fall asleep anywhere, Arthur thought as he looked at the man slumped on a hard plastic chair his head tilted back supported by the cold concrete wall behind him. His other children were all slumped in uncomfortable positions, staring at the door in front of them as the family awaited news, news that eventually came as George sped out of the door with an excited grin on his face.

“There here,” he called loud enough to startle Ron awake who promptly fell off the chair he was sitting in.

“ Wh-what’s going on?” he questioned blearily.

“Angelina has had her babies,” Lavender answered helping her fiancé off the floor.

“Grandbabies, can we meet them,” Molly asked excitedly.

“Mum you can come in, Angie is resting so I don’t want everyone in there at once,” George said holding the door open to his mother, Molly moved faster than Arthur thought possible to get into the room and George shut the door behind her.

“How are Fred and Hermione doing?” he asked worriedly.

“Still unconscious and in isolation but on their way to been fully healed,” Bill answered pulling his younger brother into a warm hug.

“They have to be alright,” George whispered, Arthur wholeheartedly agreed, they had to be alright, they had lost too much in the war and couldn’t loose Fred and Hermione now.

* * *


	2. Chapter Two: The Awakening

After the war was over, Draco Malfoy had paid back his debts to society. He had thought after been branded by the Dark Mark that should Voldemort be defeated, he’d be sent to Azkaban, surprisingly though Harry Potter and his friends had spoken up in his defence. To Draco’s astonishment instead of a life sentence he had been ordered to pay a large sum of Galleons to the Ministry, the money would go to victims of the war and rebuilding efforts in Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. He had also been ordered to repeat his seventh year at Hogwarts and do one years’ worth of community service at St Mungo’s helping those who had been injured by the dark side. Another surprise for Draco was that he enjoyed the work and had continued at the hospital after his community service was over.  
Now six years after the final battle, Draco was happy with his life, he was a qualified healer specialising in infectious diseases, he had a gorgeous wife Astoria and the pair of them had a perfect baby in little Scorpius who had just turned two months old. Draco’s life had been going a lot better than he had ever expected it would so of course a disaster had to happen forcing him to interact with people he utterly detested Draco thought to himself as he stood before a screaming redhead.  
“MALFOY, IT HAS BEEN A WEEK, LET ME SEE MY TWIN,” George Weasley screamed at him his fists clenched in rage.  
“As I have told you every day this week, your brother and Miss Granger are still unconscious and in isolation. We are trying to limit the amount of people potentially exposed to them. Only a handful of other healers have entered the room since they were brought in and each time, we do we have to go through a number safety measures both before and after leaving. The ward they are in is not allowed visitors. We plan on waking them both up as soon as it is safe to do so after which time you can communicate with them through Patronus messages but until then my priority is to my patient’s health not to your need to see them. Please Weasley do us both a favour and go home to your wife and children, if there is any change at all I promise we will contact you straight away,” he told the one eared man before him, running a hand through his hair in irritation.  
“I just want to see him,” the man before Draco whispered dejectedly.  
“I know you do,” Draco replied quietly, just as he had for the past six days, George’s shoulders visibly slumped as he slowly made his way back down the corridor to the floo network. Draco let out a silent sigh of relief as the redhead disappeared, at least he hadn’t been hit this time.

* * *

  
Hermione found herself struggling in darkness, she could feel her heartrate increasing and her breathing quickening as she tried to find her way out. There was no light, no sound, nothing, not even a wand or even her body Hermione thought to herself. For what seemed to be forever Hermione found herself drifting into the darkness or the nothing ness never aware of her physical existence, it felt like her consciousness was on a different plain far from her body. Was she dead? Often Hermione pondered this question to herself, she couldn’t really remember what had happened but surely it was something bad, why else would she be here? She knew that in a sense there was life after death, how else could ghosts exist, or the Resurrection stone have the power to recall sprits from the other side. There had to be something more to the world than life and nothingness, Hermione wasn’t expecting to find herself on a cloud with white wings and a silver halo but surely if she were dead there would be more than this. Occasionally she thought she heard the faintest whispers of words that were not her own but each time she found herself drifting deeper into the nothing as the voices grew indistinguishable.  
After what seemed to be forever Hermione found that the darkness began to fade, slowly from endless black to a bright grey, as the darkness faded, she began to hear the beeping of different machines, the shuffling of feet and even muffled conversations. As her vision became brighter, she began to realise that one of the voices was familiar.  
“Granger, can you hear me, if you can I need you to give me a sign, open your eyes, talk, squeeze my hand, anything, let me know if you are conscious,” the voice told her as something cold and hard wrapped around her hand. Hermione felt herself pull away from the coldness and heard a sigh of relief.  
“That’s great Granger, we are in the process of waking you up, you are at St Mungo’s,” the unknown voice told her quietly as they squeezed her hand once more.  
As the light grey ebbed into a brilliant white, Hermione realised that she could once more feel her body, it felt like she was waking from a horrible bout of sleep paralysis or like the time she had awoken after the basilisk petrified her in her second year at Hogwarts, her body felt stiff and unused and her eyes felt heavy. Hermione let out a groan and clenched her eyes tighter the invading light physically hurting her eyes and causing her head to instantly throb.  
“Sorry Granger, I’ll turn the light off,” the voice, a man’s voice she realised whispered to her and seconds later Hermione felt instant relief as the blinding light behind her eyelids dimmed, tentatively she opened her eyes, squinting into the darkened room, her eyes scanning her surroundings. Hermione took note of the plain white walls, the cold stone floor, and machines that were beeping at her bedside, there was a curtain drawn next to her and she could hear a gentle snore coming from behind it. So, she was in the hospital she thought to herself as she brought her eyes once more round the small room finally settling on the man who had been kind enough to turn out the light; “Malfoy,” she croaked her voice horse, as soon as she recognised the blonde hair, and grey eyes of her childhood bully. Draco Malfoy was stood before her in a pale green healer’s robe with a bubblehead charm over his head.  
“Thank Merlin, you know who I am, I was a bit worried that your concussion might have caused memory problems,” the blonde man told her, filling a glass with the Aguamenti charm, he passed the glass to her and she eagerly began to swallow it chocking slightly in her haste.  
“Slowly Granger, you will make yourself sick if you drink it too fast,” he told her lightly patting her back until her coughing eased.  
“What happened,” she asked once the water was finished.  
“Memory problems,” Draco muttered to himself writing a note on a piece of parchment.  
“Malfoy, I’m been serious what happened,” she asked him.  
“I’m been serious too, if you don’t remember what happened then your concussion has affected your memory, now answer my questions Granger so I can assess if it is just the accident you have forgotten or something more,” Malfoy told her settling himself into a chair beside her bed, quill and parchment in hand,”  
“What’s your full name,” he asked quietly.  
“Malfoy this is ridiculous of course I know my name, It’s Hermione Jean Granger,” she told him expressed.  
“Correct, on what day was the final battle of Hogwarts,” he asked her next.  
“The Second of May 1998,” she muttered.  
“Also correct, next question who is the minister for magic?” he asked her.  
“Cornelius,” Hermione began to say before shaking her head slowly, her mind feeling sluggish, “no sorry its Kingsley, Kingsley Shacklebolt was made minister after the war.”  
“Yes, he was,” Draco told her, jotting notes onto his parchment.  
“When is your birthday,” he asked her next.  
“The 19th of September 1979,” she told him firmly.  
“That’s perfect Granger,” he told her jotting down more notes.  
“Goodie do I get a gold star, perhaps a thousand points for Gryffindor?” She asked him sarcastically.  
“Granger, I’m just doing my job,” he told her seriously.”  
“Just like you were doing your job this week when you voted against my Werewolf Equality Act?” she asked snappishly.  
“That wasn’t anything personal Granger, you just need to do more work on it,” he told her jotting more notes.  
“More work, do you know how much effort I have put into that piece of legislation and then Pureblooded arses like you come along and say no. I’ve now got to wait six months before I can present my idea to the Wizengamot again, until then werewolves are suffering, many of which are children, what if it were your child Malfoy wouldn’t you want him to be treated like everyone else, to be granted the same opportunities,” she ranted at him empathetically.  
“So, you have memories from the week before the accident, that’s good, means that what you are missing can’t be that much,” Draco told her as he ignored her ranting and began to write more words on his parchment.  
“So, you are going to ignore me,” she asked angrily her hair sizzling with magic.  
“No that wouldn’t be very productive would it, you always make things difficult Granger. I agree with you that werewolves need provisions in place to allow them to be active members of society, studies show that werewolves like Professor Lupin who integrate into society, gain an education and employment are less likely to become feral like Greyback was or even just petty criminals. Most werewolves are normal people and should be treated as such. You want my vote in six months’ time, you can have it but first you need to expand on your legislation. You want us to allow all werewolf children into Hogwarts, how will they be managed on the day of the full moon, where will they transform? You want all Werewolves to have access to the Wolfsbane potion, who will be paying for the potion, the werewolves, the ministry, a charity? Also, will werewolves be required to undergo an assessment prior to getting the potion, imagine the damage Greyback could have done if he were 100% in charge when fully transformed, he killed and intentionally infected thousands without that control he would have been a thousand times worse if in control of the wolf. I am a healer Granger; every month witches and wizards are brought in who have been infected with lycanthropy, there are still werewolves out there who intentionally pass on the condition or don’t take proper precautions to keep away from other people. If you want to give every werewolf wolfsbane potion, why not have a designated place like a forest where they can change safely and have access to the potion,” Malfoy told her, using his wand to scan her body, Hermione nodded as he made his points, her brain already making plans to adapt her Legislation.  
“Okay, you’ve given me lots to think about, now will you please answer my original question, what happened to me, why am I in St Mungo’s?” she asked him as he used his wand to transfer the results of his scan to the parchment he had previously been writing on.  
“A little over three weeks ago you were involved in a potions accident at the Weasley twins joke shop,” he told her calmly,” Hermione felt her eyes widen as flashes from the day in question onslaught her memory.  
“I remember, I was at The Burrow for Sunday lunch, some grubby Weasley cousin was pawing at me and I decided to leave early, Molly asked me to bring food to Fred, where’s Fred, Malfoy, he was with me when the cauldron exploded?” Hermione stared at the blonde panicked, her breathing quickening.  
“Relax, deep breaths Granger, he’s fine,” Malfoy told her using his wand to pull back the curtain next to her, on the other side of the curtain was Fred in a hospital bed identical to hers, he looked paler than normal and she could see bandages covering his bare torso, his chest was rising and falling steadily as gentle snores escaped his mouth.  
“Freddie,” she called trying and failing to get out of bed.  
“Granger please don’t make me cast a body binding charm on you, you’ve just awoken from over a month in an induced coma, you are not well enough to walk across the room, lay back down, I will tell you what has happened, and then I will get one of my female colleagues to help you get changed, perhaps have a shower, I imagine you feel pretty grimy,” Malfoy told her gently pushing her back down to her bed, reluctantly Hermione nodded, her eyes never leaving Fred.  
“Firstly, I’m sure you will be relieved to know that the explosion hasn’t affected your pregnancy, we’ve been carefully monitoring your foetuses and they are all healthy. None of the medications that we have been giving you will affect them negatively. Since it is a multiple pregnancy, we’ve been giving you extra prenatal medicines to prevent early labour and other complications that can occur from such a pregnancy,” Malfoy informed her, Hermione turned from Fred to stare at Malfoy wide-eyed.  
“Multiple pregnancy,” she questioned shocked.  
“You didn’t know,” he asked worriedly.  
“I took a muggle pregnancy test a few days before the accident, I knew I was Pregnant, I told Fred, we were going to make an appointment here for a check-up. I didn’t know it was more than one baby though, I’m going to be a mother of twins,” she whispered raising her hand to her stomach, Hermione was shocked to find a defined curve that had not been there before the accident.  
“Not twins Granger, you’re Pregnant with identical monochorionic quadruplets,” Draco told her lightly with a kind smile.  
“What, I can’t be, multiples don’t run in my family, my parents struggled for years to have me and Madam Pomfrey told me years ago that the scar tissue from the spell Dolohov hit me with in the Department of Mysteries would likely make it difficult if not impossible to conceive one baby let alone four,” she told him, shaking her head in denial.  
“Like it or not Granger, the Weasleys have super sperm and in about five and a half months you will be adding four more to the brood. The scar tissue from the curse might have made it more difficult but certainly not impossible, we have you on potions to help strengthen your womb, I don’t specialise in midwifery but one of my colleagues who does recommends you remain on strict bedrest for the duration of the pregnancy, If you lift up your top, I can show you the babies, so you know I’m been serious,” he told her gesturing to the pyjama top someone had placed on her, hesitatingly she did as instructed and he cast a silent charm on her stomach. Hermione’s eyes widened in awe at the sight of the four-little jellybean like babies inside the magical hologram of her womb, they reminded her a bit of the gooey alien toys Teddy had wanted once in a muggle newsagent. Each of the little jellybeans had tiny faces with tiny eyes, they also had fully formed limbs, Hermione found herself counting tiny fingers and toes as her eyes filled with tears as she took in how perfect they are, her ears listening to the gentle sound of four perfectly working hearts.  
“As you can see, they share a placenta Granger, this is going to be a difficult, high risk pregnancy for you, so I need you to take care of yourself and let us healers take care of you, do you understand,” he asked her,”  
“I understand Draco, you might as well call me Hermione if we are going to be seeing one another often,” she told him, smiling through her tears at the image of her babies.

“Okay, I understand, could I have a break while I process everything, I don’t think I can hear anything else,” she told him, rolling away from the blonde man to stare across the room at her unconscious boyfriend.  
“Of course, I’ll leave you too it, if you need anything you know how to contact me, I will send in one of my colleagues to assist you in a bit,” He told her, Hermione heard him stand up and his footsteps grow quieter, she heard whispered spells and a door opening and then closing, leaving her alone in the room with Fred. Hermione silently began to cry, eventually finding herself entombed in darkens as she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

* * *

  
“Hermione’s awake,” Harry shouted as he ran through the front door of the Burrow, startling Molly and Arthur who had been sat at their kitchen table eating an early lunch.  
“That’s fantastic, Arthur we best get to the hospital dear,” Molly told her husband raising from her place at the table, she used her wand to clear the table and summoned a cardigan from another room in the house.  
“Right away Mollywobbles,” Arthur told his wife exchanging his slippers for a pair of worn brown loafers that sat by the kitchen door.  
“Malfoy said we can’t all turn up at the hospital, she’s still quarantined,” Harry told them hesitantly.  
“Nonsense Harry, of course we are going, Hermione needs us, I’m sure of it. Even if we can’t see her in person, we can use that box transporter Malfoy mentioned to see if she needs anything,” Molly told him hurrying into the living room, before he could stop his mother-in-law, he heard her call “St Mungo’s” and the whoosh of the floo activating.  
“I’ll go wrangle Molly, Harry, you let the rest of the family know that Hermione is awake,” Arthur told him with a smile as he followed his wife to floo to the hospital, a few seconds later Harry heard the floo activate once more leaving him alone in the house.

* * *

  
Hermione found herself plagued with nightmares the first night after been awoken from her induced coma, at some point after Draco had left, a female healer had entered the room to help her clean herself up, afterwards she had been left alone with Fred’s unconscious body. She had barely slept and what little sleep she had managed to get was plagued with images of explosions, Fred’s crushed body, and a gravestone with his name upon it. It was ridiculous because she could see he was alive, but in her dreams, he died sometimes years ago under a stone wall at Hogwarts and sometimes just weeks ago in an explosion at his store. Hermione’s dreams were that bad that eventually she found herself using what little strength she had to stumble across the room to Fred’s bed where she curled up next to him, her ear to his chest, listening to the gentle thump of his heartbeat, this sound eventually lulled her into an almost contented sleep, but her worry never fully escaped her.  
“You look terrible,” Draco told her, as he entered the room through the door, he had existed the previous day Hermione could see a strange white mist in the room beyond the door, but it never breached the barrier.  
“Decontamination chamber,” he told her at her questioning look, Hermione nodded in understanding.  
“How are you feeling this morning,” he asked her to use his wand to administer potions to Fred.  
“I didn’t sleep well because of nightmares and I have spent the morning expelling every ounce of water I have dared to swallow so I’m feeling just peachy,” she replied grumpily, Draco grimaced.  
“I can’t give you anything for the nightmares, Dreamless Sleep Potion isn’t safe for pregnant women, but I can give you an anti-nausea potion for the morning sickness. Astoria practically lived on them when she was pregnant with Scorpius,” he told her switching his wand to her to do some tests.  
“Here drinks this potion first, it will prevent you vomiting for 12 hours,” he told her passing her a vile looking green potion, Hermione swallowed it in one go, her nose pinched as she did so.  
“That was disgusting,” she told him which made him chuckle as he set up a tray of potions and tablets in front of her.  
“Yeah, it is but I bet you feel much better already, I need you to take all of these next,” he told her gesturing to the tray.  
“Do I even want to know what they are,” she asked reluctantly taking the contents of the tray one at a time and swallowing them.  
“probably not no, the gold one is a prenatal vitamin potion, most of the others are combinations of medicines to combat any of the virus’ or diseases that you might have been exposed too,” he told her sympathetically as she downed a rancid smelling potion with the consistency of tar.  
“Splendid,” she whispered.  
“Once you’ve finished up, I’ll help you over to the communication box, Molly Weasley is sat by its pair,” he told her apologetically.  
“How much does she know?” Hermione asked him as she swallowed down the last of her medicines.  
“Everything apart from who the father of your babies is, I heard Potter telling his wife that you were pregnant with Fred’s children, as far as I’m aware the other Weasley siblings know but nobody wanted to be the one to inform Mrs Weasley that they were his,” he told her quietly.  
“Oh god, she is going to be so angry,” Hermione told him, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.  
“That woman lives for children, she might be shocked, but I think she will likely be more relieved you are okay than angry that you are in a secret relationship with her so,” Draco told her, helping her out the chair she was sitting in next to Fred’s bed. Draco led her across the room to the glass fronted box on the wall, he summoned the chair she had previously been sitting on and placed it directly in front of the box, Hermione carefully sat back down looking apprehensively at the box now level with her face.  
“Everything will be fine Hermione,” Draco told her squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. Hermione didn’t respond, only listened as his dragon hind boots crossed the room to the door he had entered through earlier. Once Draco had entered the decontamination chamber Hermione took a steadying breath and carefully opened the glass door and whispered one word: “Hello”.

* * *

  
“Oh, Hermione dear, then merlin We’ve been ever so worried about you darling, we haven’t been allowed in to see you and Fred, how are you feeling?” Molly asked worriedly as soon as she hear Hermione’s voice, Arthur stood beside her rubbing soothing circles on her back.  
“I’m okay Mrs Weasley,” Hermione’s voice sounded sounding horse from disuse.  
“Oh Hermione, I’ve told you a thousand times call me Molly or Mum, Mrs Weasley is far too formal I’ve known you since you were a child dear, we fought in a war together, there is no need to call me Mrs Weasley, we are family dear,” Molly spoke into the box her voice slightly expressed.  
“Sorry Molly,” Hermione’s voice whispered.  
“We are family so why is it that I had to learn from the head of St Mungo’s that you are pregnant and not from yourself, why didn’t you tell me, who is the father,” Molly asked her voice slightly raised.  
“Molly-Wobbles don’t hound the girl she’s just woken up from a coma, stress isn’t good for her,” Arthur whispered to her.  
“We were going to tell you, I had only just found out myself, I wasn’t hiding the pregnancy from you,” Hermione’s voice sounded, sounding increasingly distressed, as she spoke, the end of her sentence was punctured by a sob and sniffles as the women on the other end of the device tried to stifle her emotions.  
“Oh Hermione, don’t cry dear, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Molly whispered, wiping at her own eyes.  
“We just want you and the babies to be alright, Hermione, whatever you need we will get it for you, of course the pregnancy is a surprise to the family, but we will love your children just as much as we love our biological grandchildren. You must be finding it difficult right now, I know the first thing Ginny did upon finding out she was pregnant was tell her mum, you probably wanted to do the same, I know you miss your parents dear, sorry for rambling, I want you to know that you will always have a place in our family, we aren’t your parents but we think of you as another daughter and your children will know the love of grandparent’s through us,” Arthur rambled at Molly’s side, Molly gave him a watery smile and squeezed his hand tightly.  
“Arthur’s right dear you are just as much my daughter as Ginny is and I already love your babies just as I love you, I bought more enchanted knitting needles and they are already at work making things for your babies,” Molly told Hermione through the box, a watery chuckle was the reply that she received.  
“Would you like us to inform the father that you are here, Hermione,” Arthur asked quietly.  
“There’s no need Mr Weas-Arthur,” Hermione whispered to them.  
“Why heavens not, does he not want the babies, was it a one-night stand, Hermione dear were you attacked,” Molly asked with increasing hysteria.  
“There’s no need to inform the father because the father of my babies is Fred,” Hermione told them quickly.  
“Fred,” Arthur repeated dumbly while his wife gasped loudly at his side.  
“Fred, our Fred,” Molly asked excitedly.  
“I’m sorry we kept it from you. Fred and I planned to tell you; we’ve been dating secretly for a while. At first, we didn’t want to get your hopes up if it wasn’t meant to be and then it was exciting to keep it secret. When I found out I was pregnant we knew it was time to tell everyone, the pregnancy wasn’t planned but we love each other and instantly fell in love with our future child, I suppose its children now, I didn’t know it was a multiple pregnancy, it was supposed to be impossible for me to have one child let alone four. When the explosion happened and I thought I’d miscarry and I was terrified, then I woke up to find out that my babies are fine and Fred’s still unconscious, I can’t raise four children on my own if he isn’t alright, nothing has gone how it was meant to go, Arthur’s right I want my mum and my dad, but I can’t undo their obliviations. I’m anxious and scared and really don’t know what to do,” Hermione ranted between broken sobs.  
“Oh Hermione, I wish I could hold you right now, everything is going to be alright, I promise,” Mrs Weasley whispered soothingly.

* * *

  
13 days after she was brought out of her induced coma, Hermione had settled into a routine within her and Fred’s Hospital room. Every morning she woke up, and got ready for the day, Draco ran tests on her, she ate a bowl of blueberry porridge and drank her potions, she would read a book aloud to Fred who was unconscious and the babies who were rapidly growing within her womb.  
The defined curve to her abdomen she had felt when she had first awoken after the accident was now a prominent swell, Draco had informed her that having passed the fourth month of her pregnancy her babies were now each five inches long and weighed in at 5 ounces each, her back was sore, and Hermione could swear that she could feel the baby’s fighting for space within her. By mid-morning she’d be spewing up the contents of her stomach cursing her pregnancy and the anti-nausea potions that didn’t work. She would lay on her hospital bed that she had pushed right next to Fred’s and spend a good hour groaning in pain, her head on his shoulder as he lay unaware at her side. Each afternoon she would have a small lunch and then she would sit and talk to whichever one of the Weasley’s had decided to visit, though she never got to see their faces or even be in the same room as them. Usually, it was George or Molly who visited her. After her talks she would usually have a bath and curl up next to Fred for the night, his hand clutched tight between her hands and her stomach.  
Fred didn’t stir until the fourteenth night, Hermione snuggled into hem his balm locked with her own against her stomach when he had gentry stroked her rounded globe.  
“That wasn’t there before,” he’d whispered his voice horse, when she met his sparkling blue eyes; they were filled with joy, and then Fred was kissing her as his hand tenderly held her stomach.


	3. Chapter Three:  …And They Lived Happily Ever After!

Fred took the news that he was going to be a dad to not one but four babies extremely well, Hermione thought. She had waited for Draco to carry out tests on her boyfriend to ensure he was okay before dropping the metaphorical bombshell on him. She probably should have ensured he was sitting first but she hadn’t, Draco had given Fred all clear and Fred had gone to have a shower. When Fred exited the bathroom half an hour later and made his way towards where she sat on her hospital bed, she had found herself blurting out the words; “Fred I’m pregnant with quadruplets,” while she held her stomach protectively. Poor Fred had frozen where he stood, his eye’s wide.

“W-w-what,” Fred had stuttered, so unlike himself.

“We are having four babies, Freddie,” she had replied quietly.

“Oh, that’s nice,” he had told her before his eyes rolled back as he fainted.

“I hope he doesn’t do that when I give birth,” she spoke aloud to herself before reviving him

* * *

With Fred now conscious and both well despite their continued quarantine, the lovers settled into a relatively mundane routine within their hospital suite where Fred doted upon Hermione and her ever expanding stomach.

They spent their day’s reading together, Hermione in Fred’s arms as he stroked her stomach tenderly. On the day’s when she had morning sickness though she privately thought it should be called all day sickness, Fred would hold back her hair and rub soothing circles on her back. When her feet ached, he would massage them taking all the pain away. When she had her afternoon naps, she would awaken to Fred with his ear against her bare stomach, talking to his unborn children about the future he envisioned them having together, a future that sounded perfect to Hermione. Fred spoke of how much he loved her and how much he loved the babies, he admonished them for making her so tired but encouraged them to continue to grow healthily. He spoke of how he would marry her, and they would all live together in a big house in the country, somewhere where they could play Quidditch with all their cousins.

“I like the sound of that,” Hermione whispered one afternoon when she woke to him with his ear against her stomach once more, she threaded her hand into his soft ginger hair, massaging his scalp softly, Fred let out a pleasurable groan; “I want to give you all the world,” he told her as he sat up, her fingers still in his hair.

“You are my word, you and these babies,” she informed him, her hand going to her stomach, feeling a kick against her palm, she didn’t care how cheesy it sounded because it was true.

“You guys are my whole world as well” he told her, leaning down to kiss her, “I love you Hermione and I love our babies,” he told her between kisses.

“We love you too,” she had replied.

“Marry me, when we get out of here, I want you to marry me, I want you to be mine and for us to have it all, I want us to get a house together with plenty of room for the children to play, I will continue to work in the joke shop while you my beautiful wife will, pass her werewolf equality Act and continue to make her way up through the ministry; one day you’ll be head of your department and maybe once Kingsley retires you could be Minister for Magic,” he spoke with such passion to her and it took her breath away.

“Marry me Hermione Granger,” he whispered against her lips, all she could do was nod and clutch him closer to her, her fingers tugging on his hair as his lips claimed hers once more before trailing down her neck. Fred gently lifted her nighty over her head leaning over her; Hermione laid in nothing, but a pair of beige granny panties pulled high over her swollen stomach. Fred took his time lavishing her with attention, licking and kissing every area of exposed skin before finally removing her knickers. Settling between her legs Fred licked her deliberately slowly; Hermione’s legs wrapped tightly around his head her hands in his hair holding him in place as she begged him for release a release he granted when he gently took her clitoris into his mouth, sucking on it gently as the tip of his tongue ran over Hermione’s hardened nub. Hermione screamed his name as she came and Fred continued flicking his tongue back and forth over her sensitive nub, two long fingers inside her, thrusting against the front wall of her vagina, repeatedly his fingers thrust stimulating her g-spot, as he used his talented tongue to swirl against her clit; bringing his beautiful witch to orgasm after orgasm.

On her fourth orgasm, Hermione squirted her release, unable to speak all she could do was moan as Fred took one final lick across her virginal before hovering over her as he thrust his hardened cock into her, her back arching as he thrust again and again, his mouth kissing her desperately, allowing her a taste of her own salty release on his tongue as it fought for dominance with her own. Eventually he came, screaming her name desperately, carefully he pulled out of her, mindful of her stomach between them and pulled her naked body into his arms.

“I love you my beautiful witch,” he told her, his hand spread over her stomach as they both let sleep claim them, inside her womb the babies kicked at their father’s hand, a gentle movement that Fred felt as he slept, a smile spreading across his face.

* * *

Time in their little quarantine bubble passed fast; the only healer to enter their suite was Draco, once each morning to give them potions and to ensure they had everything they needed; they spoke occasionally to the Weasley’s through the communication box but as they approached the end of their three months of quarantine these chats had become less frequent especially after they had informed Molly that they intended to be married as soon as they were free; Fred’s mum had taken it upon herself to plan the wedding and had commandeered all family members with any free time to the task. The rest of their time was spent talking, reading, and having sex. Once the all-day sickness had cleared up Hermione had found herself to be in a constant state of arousal, when mentioned to Draco he had told them that it was a perfectly natural stage of pregnancy. Fred was more than happy to help her; using his penis, tongue, and fingers to bring her to orgasm not at all upset that her stomach had started to get in the way or that often after her own release Hermione would fall asleep before he too could be stated.

* * *

Life was good in their little bubble but when the 90th day had finally passed; Hermione was happy to find herself walking with Fred out of the door that Draco had used daily straight into the arms of Molly who waited bouncing in the corridors to see her.

“Oh Hermione, you’re glowing,” Her future mother-in-law had told her holding her close.

“I’m huge,” was Hermione’s reply.

“You’re beautiful, Fred corrected,” pecking his mother’s cheek.

“Oh, you two, how I didn’t figure out you are dating is beyond me, you are perfect together,” Molly said happily as she led them to the hospital’s floo’s so they could go to the Burrow.

“Blimey Mione you’re bloody gargantuan,” were the words Hermione heard as soon as she stepped out of the fire into the Weasley’s living room, Hermione wasn’t at all surprised that the words had come from her best friend’s Ron’s mouth.

“Ronald,” multiple voices called out as his fiancé Lavender hit the back of his head.

“Sorry Mione,” he smiled sheepishly at her, holding his arms wide. It was good to be home she thought stepping forward into his warm embrace. Soon she found herself been passed from person to person, everyone wanting to see her and feel the babies kicking in her stomach.

* * *

A week after their release from St Mungo’s Hermione, six months pregnant and no longer able to see her feet; walked through a meadow of wildflowers near the Burrow. She wore a long flowing white dress and violet flowers were weaved into a crown sat atop of her voluminous curls, the curs flowing down to the centre of the back, gently moving in the light breeze of the perfect summer’s day. She held onto Harry’s hand tightly as they walked, past all her friends and family and the two empty chairs that represented her parents who lived blissfully unaware in Australia of the daughter they had once cherished.

In front of her stood Fred; beneath an apple tree, wearing a purple suit, Minister Shacklebolt at his side, beaming. Her and Fred spoke words of love and promise as Kingsley bonded them for life, tears streaming down both their faces. After the wedding as they shared their first dance, Hermione could barely remember the words they had spoken, she remembered the look in his eyes so full of love and she remembered their first kiss as husband and wife so full of promise of the future to come.

* * *

After the wedding, Fred and she had moved into a charming cottage in the Scottish Highlands; it was painted white and had a thatched roof; its windows had little flower boxes on the outside and from the inside they looked like frames for beautiful scenic photographs as they looked out at a lochs, fields, and mountains. The room that Hermione had fallen in love with when viewing the property had been a small library with a cosy window seat overlooking the water outside. Hermione spent hours each day on that seat, peacefully reading or amending her werewolf equality Act. Often Fred would find her curled up on the window seat asleep when he returned home from the shop and he’d carefully carry her down the hall to their bedroom where he would kiss her forehead and then her stomach, thankful for the amazing woman who was growing his children, he would then lay his ear upon her belly and tell his children about his day at work.

* * *

Six months to the day that they had turned down her Werewolf Equality Act, Hermione waddled into the Wizengamot chamber forgoing her work robes that no longer fit and ignoring the murmurs of the Lords, and ministry members on the benches above her.

“Hermione, you are meant to be on maternity leave,” Kingsley Shacklebolt spoke from his Ministers seat at the centre of the assembled witches and wizards.

“I was told I could come back and present my law again in six months so here I am,” she responded calmly, one hand rubbing her lower back to ease a pain that had started the previous evening, the other protectively holding her stomach.

“Hermione, you shouldn’t be here, you are over eight and a half months, pregnant, you could go into labour at any minute” Harry spoke, standing from his seat and hurrying down to her, conjuring a squishy armchair for her to sit in.

“Pretty sure I’m already in labour,” she told her best friend, her quiet voice echoing around the chamber as she collapsed into the chair, wincing at a particularly painful cramp in her stomach.

“You should be at St Mungo’s, Hermione,” Draco spoke, hurrying down to her from his own seat in the chamber. When he reached her, he used his wand to run a diagnostic charm on her.

“You are in labour Hermione, you can present your bill another day,” he told her.

“No, I will not, I have put so much effort into this and it will be passed today even if I have to give birth here, I am not going anywhere” she told him firmly, standing up and pushing both Harry and Draco away.

“Minister you cannot allow this to proceed, this is a sacred chamber, you cannot allow this Mud-Muggleborn to birth her spawn here,” an older man Hermione didn’t recognise spoke.

“If Hermione feels up to presenting her bill, I see no reason why she shouldn’t, she has after all worked very hard on this just as she has worked hard to nurture her babies; wouldn’t it be wonderful if the fruits of both of her hard tasks came on the same day,” Kingsley spoke, smiling down at her.

“Thank you, Minister,” Hermione spoke before launching into an explanation of her bill and the amendments she had made to it since their last meeting. Hermione spoke passionately, pacing on the chamber floor, occasionally gasping or pausing when a particularly bothersome contraction rippled through her. The women in the chamber winced each time that happened in sympathy while many of the men in the chamber looked on uncomfortably. When she had finished the speech, she had prepared she carefully settled herself back into the conjured armchair to await the verdict.

“All those against Mrs Hermione Granger-Weasley’s Werewolf Equality Act please raise your wands now,” the minister spoke, only five members of the Wizengamot raised their hands, their tips glowing red.

“All those in favour of Mrs Hermione Ganger-Weasley’s Werewolf Equality Act please raise your wands now,” the minister spoke again, smiling at her as he raised his own wand, its tip glowing green along with the other members of the chamber who hadn’t yet voted.

“Hermione congratulations, you put a lot of effort into this and you deserve it, the werewolf population of the United Kingdom has a wonderful alley with you. I will work personally with your department to make sure everything is put in place and runs smoothly until you return from your maternity leave and can run the project yourself,” the minister told her.

“Thank you,” she told him, struggling from the chair, gasping loudly as the sharpest contraction yet shot through her; her waters breaking al over the chambers floor as she panted through the pain.

“Hermione,” several voices called as more than one person rushed to her side.

“This session of the Wizengamot will be adjourned until two,” Kingsley’s voice called loudly.

“Hermione are you alright, Harry asked her, her body was been supported by both him and Bill Weasley who had taken the Weasley’s seat on the Wizengamot after the war.

“I have four watermelon sized babies inside me, and they will be coming out of my vagina from a hole that is usually the size of a Knut, no Harry I am not alright,” she spoke through gritted teeth as another contraction came straight after the previous.

“Hermione, you are at nine centimetres of dilation, we are going to get you to St Mungo’s now, Draco spoke after casting another charm on her, all Hermione could do was nod in agreement and be thankful that as Minister of Magic, Kingsley could create portkeys, which he did happily allowing for a quick journey to the magical hospital.

* * *

After receiving a Patronus from his brother Bill, Fred had apparated as quickly as he could to the hospital where he had been directed to the room where his wife was; Harry slipping out of the door silently after his entrance. Hermione was in a hospital gown, her sweaty curls tied in a bun, a few stray hairs sticking to her forehead, she was panting, clutching her stomach which rippled as contractions ripped through her. To Fred she had never looked more beautiful and he told her this as he kissed her forehead and settled behind her as they had practiced in her birthing classes. Fred supported her throughout each contraction, his stubborn goddess of a wife refusing any form of pain relief as she birthed their identical monochorionic quadruplets into the world; pushing at the instruction of a female mediwitch who stood between her open legs.

The cry of their first baby filled the room an hour after his arrival and the baby, a healthy little girl was placed on her mother’s breast, instinctively suckling milk from its teat as Hermione birthed the remaining three babies; their cry’s also permitting the air as, Fred repeatedly kissed their mother’s hair, tears flowing from his eyes, repeatedly telling her how much he loved her and how amazing she was.

When both mother and babies had been cleaned up and all the babies had been fed, Fred and Hermione sat tiredly next to one another each smiling and holding a baby in each arm. All four of the babies had a silver bangle on their left wrists, spelled to magically expand and remain in place unless removed by their parents, each of the bracelets had the babies name etched into the metal: Rose, Olivia, Iris and Ella. The girls were a perfect blend of their parents; with tufts of curly red hair on their heads, Hermione’s button nose and eyes the exact same shade of blue as their father. Sitting on the hospital bed Fred couldn’t imagine his life getting better than in this quiet moment as his little family sat together in a bubble of isolation.

* * *

Of course, life did get better; a year after the birth of his daughters, Fred and George bought Zonko’s Joke Shop in Hogsmeade and expanded Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. George ran the original shop in London while Fred ran the Scottish branch, liking the feeling of been closer to his little Scottish cottage; that he and his wife had named Willow Nook Cottage, after finding a willow tree in its grounds and Hermione curled up in many nooks of the cottage; baby to her breast as she read or worked.

Hermione had taken to motherhood wonderfully; she was his living Aphrodite and he had never been more in love with her. Six months after giving birth she had returned to work; working from home when she could but with a massive ever-expanding family of Weasley’s and Potter’s happy to babysit when she and Fred were at work. Molly Weasley was always the first to offer to look after the children, always eager to have any of her grandchildren with her at the Burrow, Molly had practically lived at Willow Nook when the young parents had first brought their girls home and they would forever be thankful to the women for everything she continued to do to support them.

Knowing she had the assistance of her family and that her daughters were safe and happy pushed Hermione to continue her work to support those in the Magical community who needed it. The Werewolf Equality Act had been a huge success allowing werewolves free access to the Wolfsbane Potion, safe designated forests to transform in as well as access to Healthcare, Education and Jobs. Under the act the ministry provided funding to charities and projects such as the orphanage Lavender ran. Hermione overhauled outdated laws; helping House elves, Centaurs, Merpeople, Veela and other creatures who were oppressed, Kingsley recognised this hard work by promoting her to the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures shortly after the quadruplets fourth birthday.

A year after her promotion Fred had danced under the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, his wife held in his arms as they celebrated the 10-year anniversary since the fall of Voldemort. When they had returned to Willow Nook that night, Fred had worshiped her body as they made love, thankful that they had both lived all those years ago. When he had thrust into her a final time, her fluttering walls claiming his release, he placed his palm against her stomach ready to perform the contraceptive charm, but Hermione grabbed his wrist stopping him.

“Don’t, we fought for a world where our children could be free, I want another baby Freddie,” she told him quietly, placing his palm to her mouth where she kissed it.

“So, do I,” he told her, rolling them over so that he laid under her, her body flat against his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin, his member buried deep within her. That night they slept peacefully wrapped around each other in the centre of their king-sized bed.

The February following the Memorial Ball, three months after the quadruplets sixth birthday Hermione had given birth to their son; Richard. A horrible snowstorm had taken down the Floo Network, unable to apparate in her condition and miles from the nearest hospital; both magical and muggle, Hermione had climbed into their clawfoot bathtub and let her body do what it was made to do, the warm water offering soothing comfort as she bore down and pushed. Fred had alternated between holding her hand and tending to their daughters who were playing in their playroom. He had also sent his mother an owl, forgetting he knew how to perform the Patronus charm.

Molly Weasley had apparated into Willow Nook twelve hours after Fred had sent the owl and found both parents asleep, her new grandson in Fred’s arms and four little six-year-olds snoring as they all snuggled together in their parent’s bed. Molly had conjured a camera, taking a picture of the family, and then carefully picked up her new-born grandson who had begun to stir; the picture she had taken sat pride of place above the fireplace in the living room of Willow Nook.

Eighteen months after the birth of Richard who took after his mother with his curly brown hair and chocolate-coloured eyes, they had discovered that Hermione was pregnant again after she had fainted at the Ministry. On a chilly day in August Hermione had given birth to twins; Nate and Daniel when they had taken a weekend break in Magical Paris. They had been there to celebrate their ninth wedding anniversary. The twins, miniature replicas of their father and Uncle George; with their pale freckled skin, red hair and blue eyes had arrived three weeks early with little warning at all. Fred had been sat on their balcony eating crapes and fruit, watching people moving in the street below when he had heard Hermione shout his name. He had found Hermione on the bathroom floor, clutching Nate in her arms, eyes wide in shock, as a contraction tore through her body which was ready to birth the baby’s twin. “I thought I needed a poo,” she had told him as he fell to his knees next to her using his wand to sever the umbilical cord. Three minutes later he repeated the process cutting the cord connected to Daniel. They had returned home three day’s later with the two bundles of joy, unsure how Hermione had not realised she was in labour after her previous births.

When the twins had turned two and they were preparing to send their now eleven year old daughters off to Hogwarts for their first year; Kingsley Shacklebolt had pulled Hermione into his office and offered her the position of Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, Fred had encouraged her to accept the job knowing that Hermione would be able to balance the additional responsibility while still been an amazing mother and wife; over the years they had created a perfect balance together filled with; family, love and laughter. Seeing their daughters off to Hogwarts the would be tough on the family, but they couldn’t wait to hear of the adventures they had at school, and they would have the support of many older cousins already at the school who would look after them.

Fred had never been more grateful for the life he had been given; that he had survived the wall falling on him in the final battle and the explosion at the Diagon Alley shop. As he sat under the willow tree in his garden, his wife of over a decade laid across his lap, his hand playing with her hair as she read Hogwarts A History, a book he knew she had memorised many years before. He watched as his younger children played chase together with the gnomes and his older children flew on brooms through the air above. His life was perfect.

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt the Minister of Magic had married Healer Matilda Abbott a year after the explosion in Diagon Alley and they now had an eight-year-old son Thatcher and a three-year-old daughter Madisen. Kingsley had fought in two Wizarding Wars as an Auror and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. After the death of Alastor Moody, he had taken control of both organisations during the final year of the war and had then been thrust into the position of Minister in the aftermath of the war. Kingsley had never wanted a position of power, but he had been what the nation had needed; to help rebuild the society that Voldemort and his followers had destroyed. Kingsley had stayed in the position, ensuring that all the Death Eaters were captured and given fair trials and sentences, he had systematically removed every bigoted individual from positions of power. He had rebuilt society and with the help of Hermione he had managed to make the world one that fostered equality and promoted diversity.

Kingsley had enough money to live out the rest of his life with his family at their home in Yorkshire but before he stepped down, he had one more job to do. He had promoted Hermione to Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. Kingsley had been the Minister of Magic for Magic for seventeen long years and there was no one he would trust more with his position than Hermione. Over the next three years he would teach her everything she needed to know and at the next election the September of Hermione’s thirty-ninth birthday he would step down and put her name forward; having won the election himself three times since the role was thrust upon him at the end of the war, he was certain the nation would listen to his opinion and Hermione would be made the next Minister of Magic, the youngest Minister in the history of position. Kingsley was certain he would be able to retire and spend more time with his family when Hermione was ready to take over the reins.

* * *

As Kingsley had planned; Hermione Granger-Weasley became the youngest Minister of Magic shortly after her thirty-ninth birthday. Fred had stood proudly at the front of the atrium as she was sworn in, holding the latest addition to their family in his arms; one year old Lola who was the spitting image of her mother. Fred smiled happily as he watched his wife become the leader of their society; dressed in a flowing blue sundress that accentuated the gentle swell of her growing stomach; proudly showing the world that you could be a mother and hold positions of power. This would be their final pregnancy they had decided making their brood an even ten, Theodore and Maxwell would be born in four months’ time, and Fred couldn’t wait to meet them.

Life for the Weasley-Granger family could be hectic at times; having eight, soon to be ten children and both him and Hermione working could be hard to handle; the saying it took a village to raise a child was true, his siblings and parents had always been there to offer support and to babysit and all the children in the family extended family had grown up as close as Fred had been with his own family. Often the children would floo to one another’s houses for pick up quidditch games or a game of exploding snaps. Often, they would sit down for dinner and have one of their children missing, a niece or nephew sat in their place while their missing child ate dinner at one of his sibling’s or his parent’s homes.

Fred looked forward to whatever the future held because with Hermione by his side he could do anything, even answer awkward questions like the one sweet little Rose had asked that very morning. Rose the oldest of the quadruplets now fourteen and so much like her mother, except for the colour of her hair and eyes and startled him that morning when he had been sat drinking his morning coffee in the living room of Willow Nook.

Fred’s eyes had been drifting over the photographs that lined the walls and any available surfaces depicting the wonderful life he had lived with his family when Rose’s head had appeared in the fireplace her eyes wide with worry:

“Daddy, Scorpius Malfoy kissed me, and I don’t know what to do,” she had said quickly.

Fred was certain that her face was bright red, and it wasn’t just the flames surrounding it. A part of Fred had wanted to castrate Draco’s heir, even if Draco had become one of his closet friends after their time quarantined in St Mungo’s. Instead of hunting down the boy and using the curse Hermione had once used on his cousin Randel, Fred had sat awkwardly listening to Rose who explained what had happened and how she had felt about the kiss and how Scorpius was her best friend, and she didn’t want to ruin their friendship but how she also liked him a lot and how he had lovely soft hair that reminded her of snow, Rose reminding him that she loved snow and winter was her favourite season. Fred had listened to his daughter and then told her the story of how once upon a time her mother Hermione and her Uncle Ron had attempted dating. He told her that even though the relationship hadn’t worked out, they had remained best friends. Rose had nodded, her mind made up and said goodbye to him after thanking him for the help. Fred was certain that by Christmas his eldest daughter would be dating the oldest child of Draco Malfoy and he was certain that he was partially responsible for his daughter’s decision.

He would be there to support Rose with any decisions she made as would Hermione and the rest of the family; Granger-Weasley’s could do anything they set their mind too and would always have an army of people ready to share in their triumphs and successes or to comfort them and care for them when things didn’t go to plan.

…And They Lived Happily Ever After!

The End


End file.
